


The Value of A Soul

by starsandsupernovae



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, Captain America Sam Wilson, Dark Natasha Romanov, Fix-It of Sorts, Frenemies Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Natasha Romanov Is Alive, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), hopefully, this'll be fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-09 09:24:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18914131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandsupernovae/pseuds/starsandsupernovae
Summary: Steve goes back to return the Infinity Stones. While returning the Soul Stone he gets Natasha back- or so it seems. The Soul Stone transactions are permanent and the Natasha that rises may not be the Natasha that fell, or not all of her anyway





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to @acastleintheair on tumblr who helped me edit

Steve climbed, his steps muffled by the ever-falling snow. He shifted his bag further onto his shoulder as the flakes swirled around him, the wind howling past his face. It was strange that no matter which direction he faced during his trek up the mountain the gale blew the same way. He almost laughed at himself as he continued on. Here on a barren planet where he was to deliver an infinity stone back in time that was the odd part. The wind. Still, the planet was almost beautiful, he reflected as he stopped for a moment, stepping just a bit closer to the edge of the cliff so far above the clouds now he could not really see the bottom. The light moved differently here, different colors streaming through the masses of clouds and against the hard edge of the mountain.

“Steven.” A horribly familiar voice, one of nightmares cut into his thoughts and he turned slowly to see a hooded figure floating towards him. “Son of Joseph.”

“You can’t be real,” Steve said, stepping forward warily. “You died.”

“So did you.” And Steve could see his face now if you could call it that now, that horrible burnt skull, still alive. “But it matters not, now. None of it matters anymore. It’s not here.”

“I know,” Steve answered, pushing past the ghost of his past, clad in the robes of death. “I came to put it back.”

There was silence for a moment and Steve thought he had disappeared just as he had appeared, or perhaps he had never been there at all until he spoke again.

“You think to reverse a trade? To undo a deal?” Red Skull asked

Steve kept walking. Through the passageway of stone. Out into the open. Through the pillars, reaching up to the atmosphere.

“They are irreversible, Steven. Best to take the stone elsewhere.”

Steve unzipped his bag, and reached in for the pouch carefully, opening it so the glow shone out the top, a soft yellow lighting up his face.

“You know not what you’re dealing with, Rogers!”

He walked over to the edge, holding it in the palm of his hand, marveling at how light it was, this stone of unimaginable power.

“Stop this!”  
Steve turned, hand still open, to face the persistent specter.

“Thank you,” he said. “I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know if I could really get her back by returning the stone. But that’s what you’re scared of, isn’t it? I don’t know if you’re a ghost, or some kind of spirit or what. But I’m going to get my friend back now.”

And in one move he turned, heedless of the cry from behind him and upended his palm over the edge.

The stone fell.

It left a trail of bright yellow light behind it, bursting through cloud and fog, lighting up the world for a moment.

“You are a fool!” Red Skull hissed. “You have gotten back nothing!”

But Steve couldn’t hear him. He had gone. No longer at the top of the mountain, between the pillars, above the pit, he stood in a stream, of what seemed to be water, slow-moving, gliding around his legs. And before him, sitting up slowly, Natasha squeezed the liquid from her braid.

“Steve?” She asked, looking around and standing quickly, trying to assess the situation.

“Natasha,” Steve said, barely believing it. “Natasha. What do you remember?”

“The stone. I went with Clint and then we needed a sacrifice and then I…I fell. I jumped and then I fell so far. I didn’t stop falling.” Natasha looked up at Steve. “I just kept falling.”

She didn’t want to tell him what happened when she hit the ground.

“Did we win?” she asked.

“Yeah, Nat.” Steve smiled slightly as he got out of the river and pulled her out along with him. “We won.”

They sat, backs to some kind of rock structure, eating some bars Steve had packed while he filled her in. He felt the roughness through the fabric of his shirt, some of the jagged stone poking at his back and wondered if there’s any smooth surface on the planet.

“So how many Pym particle things do you have left?” Natasha asked, dropping the wrapper to the ground.

“Two,” Steve answered. “One more stone to deliver, the Tesseract back, and then home. So we can just both go back, and then I’ll go return it. We can go back, Natasha.”

“Right.” she nodded and something in her tone, or perhaps the lack thereof made Steve’s head turn towards her.

“Natasha?”

She didn’t look back.

“We can go back.” He repeated. He wasn’t sure if she could hear him anymore. She stared down at the ground, at the water lazily passing them by. “See everyone again.”

Natasha finally responded after several moments, brushing red tendrils of hair out of her eyes as she faced him.

“No, we can’t.”

“What do you mean, we can’t? I just told you we have more particles in the future, we’ve got Pym back now, we-”

“No.” Natasha stood suddenly. “We can’t go back. I can’t go back with you, Steve, I’m sorry.”

Steve jumped to his feet

“Natasha, I don’t understand.”

“I know.” she closed her eyes for a moment. “I know and I- I’m sorry?” It seemed to be a question as though she thought she should be but wasn’t quite sure she was.

“For what?” He asked, reaching to grasp her shoulder. “Listen, let’s go back and then we’ll figure this out okay? Whatever’s wrong we’ll work it out. Together.”

He tried to relax, tried to hide his fear, to remain calm so he could at least get her back to a time and place where they didn’t have to fear imminent alien threat. He just got her back, he wasn’t going to lose her again. For a moment a doubt flew across his mind that possibly this wasn’t really- but no. No, he wouldn’t even think it.

“I need the particles,” Natasha said blankly and Steve could have cried with relief. He passed them over and moved to type the proper time and coordinates into his own suit.

“Right now, yours is to the location of the last one, right? The Tesseract, back in time.” Natasha’s tone was still strangely empty but Steve answered anyway, automatically.

“Yeah. I did it all before. I can change it easily though, don’t wo-”

“You won’t tell them about me.”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you later.” Natasha shrugged and in smooth motion lunged forward and activated his time jumper. “Or earlier. It’s confusing, this time travel.”

Her words echoed around the empty planet, as she slid the Pym particles into her own suit and typed in 2019 and the first coordinates that jumped to mind, a safe house she was certain would be abandoned. One last look around, one gentle press of a button and the planet was lifeless once again.


	2. Chapter 2

Natasha sat cross-legged on the bed, the heat of her laptop a dull discomfort through her black leggings. Steve had apparently told the truth about what happened to Thanos in what was being called the Final Battle. It seemed apt. She clicked through to a tribute article at the end, amidst the titles calling for five years gone politicians to have their positions back, just above an advertisement for a connection company guaranteed to find anyone who may have moved since the snap. The world had indeed moved on, and now half the population would like it to stop and let them catch up for a moment. 

Ignoring them, Natasha focused on the article she had selected. She skimmed through Tony’s achievements, the author’s praise and thinly veiled attraction, the highlights of his life culminating of course in the Final Battle, where he wielded the gauntlet, sacrificing his life for all others, one last heroic gesture. 

She leaned back against the wall, letting the computer sitting on her lap dim, only the weak glow lighting her face. The room was dark, the window closed with the curtains tightly closed. It was small enough that the bareness of the room, the presence of only the bed, tiny closet, and a single light bulb was hardly striking. A glance at the lower right corner of the screen let her know the time, 9:18. She knew she should feel something, loss, grief, emotions she certainly was no stranger to, as she stared at the screen which looked back at her unchanging, as unapologetic as her own blank mind. She had been friends with the man, been closer than friends, they had worked alongside for so long, he had been, well he’d been family really. They’d been family and now Natasha could only look dry-eyed at the screen telling the story of his death and feel nothing at all, just a slight emptiness in her stomach letting her know she hadn’t eaten since she’d been back. 

A quick flick of her fingers on the mouse pad brought light back, brightness bursting forth to illuminate her face as she read the last paragraph, a stupid way to portray the man really, although she was sure Tony would love hearing about how everyone was talking about his sacrifice now.

“Always have to have the last word, don’t you, Stark?”

The silence she got in response was somehow louder than the quiet before she had spoken but she had never minded the quiet. Still, this article really was annoying, all cloying pandering praise. Perhaps that was it. Yes, that could be why she wasn’t feeling upset, it wasn’t that she wasn’t upset he was gone, it was this stupid article, reducing him to these ridiculous events and accomplishments. This author, this, she scrolled to the top quickly, this Regina Quire, even the name sounded ridiculous, it was her who made him sound unreal and fake, her who made his death seem meaningless. She grasped onto the explanation and held tight, weaving a tale from the straw. It made sense after a while after she thought about it. It was this Quire woman’s fault. All she had to do was remove her. Without noticing, her shoulders lowered almost imperceptibly, untensing ever so slightly as everything cleared up. She had a solution now, a target. She’d be fine. 

She stood from the bed, letting the laptop fall onto the blanket and crossed over to the closet, swinging open the door. Dresses hung from the bar trailing over the shoes on the rack. Carefully, methodically, Natasha moved the shoe racks aside to reveal the weaponry behind, guns and knives that would put the armory at any SHIELD safehouse to shame, as well as one sleek black box on top. The reason she’d chosen this place to come to over any other. Gently, she reached out and picked it up, spit on her index finger and placed it gently on the red hourglass on front. A barely audible click and it opened, two of her very special Widow’s Bites gauntlets resting on creamy silk within. Natasha let a small grin onto her lips. Yes, she’d be just fine. 

 

“Hey, Pigeon.” 

Sam didn’t even bother to look up from the papers on his desk. 

“First of all, it’s Falcon. Second of all, it’s not falcon anymore. Third of all, do you ever knock?”

“So what I’m getting is, it’s not actually Falcon so I’m fine?” Bucky moved into the office and looked around. “This Steve’s old office here?”

Even if he wasn’t trained to read people Bucky would have been able to see the effect his words had on him, Sam’s eyes jerking up to meet his, his jaw setting and shoulders tensing. 

“Well, Steve hasn’t worked here with SHIELD for a while, as you know,” he said, choosing his words with care. “But yes, when he did, this was Captain America’s office. Now that I’ve uh, inherited the position, the office goes to me.” He glared at Bucky, daring him to defy his statement.

“Calm down, I’m not here to challenge you or anything.” Bucky grabbed a chair from the corner by the window, noting the closed blinds and sat.

“Why’re you here then?” Sam asked, curiosity breaking through his defensiveness despite himself. Bucky shrugged.

“You haven’t been by the compound in a while. Would’ve thought you’d be there all day what with your new position and all.”

Now it was Sam’s turn to shrug.

“I’ve still got to fill out the paperwork after the missions. Besides, the compounds pretty full as it is.”

“Yeah, okay.” Bucky plucked the folder he was looking at from his desk before he could react. He flicked through the newspaper articles, big flashy headlines decrying the new Captain America, detailing the faults and flaws of one Sam Wilson, editorials and opinion pieces explaining in great detail why the America of Tomorrow needed the Captain of Yesterday and why this one could never match up. “Paperwork, huh?”

“Give those back, Barnes.” Sam stood and reached for them, sighing when Bucky held them out of reach. “Don’t make me come and get them.”

“You shouldn’t be looking at this shit at all, Wilson.” Bucky darted around the desk as Sam moved to grab them. “Why do you want it?”

“Captain America should care about public opinion. SHIELD has made that clear.” Sam answered, rolling under the desk to grab at Bucky’s legs.

“Well, maybe SHIELD doesn’t know what Captain America should care about.” Bucky jumped onto the desk just as Sam emerged, knocking his computer to the tile floor. “Steve never cared abou-”

“Well maybe I’m-” Sam began loudly when the door opened and they both froze at the sight of Maria Hill in the doorway. Bucky dropped the folder and Sam stood to attention. 

“Am I interrupting?” She asked, taking in the scene, gaze lingering on the broken computer lying on the floor. Bucky sheepishly got down from the desk.

“No, ma’am.” 

“Good. Captain, there’s a matter I wanted to speak to you about, but well, Barnes may as well stay. We could use you here. If that’s all right with you, Wilson?” Without waiting for an answer she continued, tapping through to a file on her tablet apparently oblivious to the glares being exchanged above her head as she found what she was looking for and shoved it forward for the two to see. 

The men looked down at the woman's body on the screen, covered to the neck in a sheet that was just a shade whiter than her skin now. There were no visible wounds, except, Sam tilted his head, a spot that seemed almost charred, like a small burn. 

“Regina Quire.” Maria placed the tablet on the desk and folded her arms. “Low-level journalist, generally irrelevant to us except her method of death-”

“Electrocution.” Bucky pushed away the screen. “Right?”

Maria nodded. 

“Thought you might recognize it,” she said

“Why?” 

“What does she have to do with us? With me?” Sam asked, looking up.

“We have reason to believe whoever killed her did so with a very specific weapon. Weapons, to be exact. We want you to bring them to justice and recover the weapons for us.” Maria said, retrieving her tablet.

“No. There’s no way.” Bucky said, shaking his head. “They’re all hidden. And DNA locked.”

“We have reason to believe that regardless, whoever the killer is, has them anyway. And therefore may have some of her DNA.” Maria said, pausing to let him take in the impact of her words.

“Anyone wanna let me know what any of this means?” Sam broke in. “Any time about now would be good.”

The two turned to look at him as though they forgot he was there, a bit rude considering it was his office really, and Bucky was the first to speak.

“She thinks whoever did this has Nat’s gauntlets. Which is ridiculous because they’re all hidden and Natalia knows how to hide.” Something in his face changed as he spoke of her, but just as quickly as it was there it was gone, forced back away. “They’re also all DNA and fingerprint locked. So if someone did have it they’d have her DNA. And she’s been kind of, well…”

“Genetically enhanced. Her DNA in the wrong hands could be a mess. We need you to clean it up.” Maria finished for him.

Sam nodded.

“So I just track down this possibly enhanced guy and we go in and apprehend him?” 

“Apprehend?” Maria repeated. “Yeah, sure. Just take care of the situation.”

Sam paused, unsure how to respond for a moment. Luckily, his new partner had no such hesitations.

“We will,” Bucky spoke up, flexing his metal fist. “If you’re really right, if someone out there really is using those gauntlets, we’ll take care of them for you.”

 

Natasha walked through the streets jauntily, earbuds in and bag swinging freely, the picture of casual merriment. One observing her, although she had made sure there was none, would have been shocked at the transformation that took place as soon as she stepped through her door as though the threshold had some magic power over her. Gone was any sort of happy spirit. In its place was a fierce determinism. She ripped the useless earbuds from her ears, shoving them into the bag she hung on the hook by the door. Withdrawing the gun from within she carefully replaced it in the cupboard where it belonged before sitting down and assessing her mission.

It was successful. Technically. The annoying woman, the false reporter was now dead and could ruin Tony no longer. And yet the emotions she was waiting for still evaded her, nothing but a blank absence of anything in their place. Her determinism seemed to drain away just for a moment and this time there was nothing to replace it, just a blank emptiness. Just for a moment before she pulled it back with a sheer force of will she didn’t know she had, just a moment of the terrible blank nothing before she yanked back her determination and will but a moment was enough. She wouldn’t return to emptiness ever again. And while she may not have gotten the emotions she wished for from the woman she had gotten success from her. That wasn’t nothing. That was worth. Yes, Natasha would figure this out. She could get success, from her own missions. She had done it once and she’d do it again and again. Gather success and worth until it filled her up until there was no more to be had. So she’d never be empty again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, please let me know what you thought, comments keep me writing!


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